


Scornful Eyes

by Saigoat



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Public Humiliation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, book ramsay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saigoat/pseuds/Saigoat
Summary: Ramsay finds new ways to humiliate his captive. At the expense of a few visiting Lords and Ladies.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Scornful Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> The public humiliation fic I began forever ago.

Focusing...Desperately focusing...on the clatter of dishes against one another, the loud scraping of the wooden chair against the hard stone floor, The protesting creak of the table beneath him. Trying to concentrate on anything but the searing pain tearing him apart from the inside out, anything but the hulking figure looming above him, pressing a heavy hand down on the feeble man’s neck, pinning him to the shabby dining hall surface below. But an agony… an agony worse than the vicious thrusting or the monstrous grip twisting against marred skin, threatening to tear new gashes open was hearing it...the tittering...snickering...horrified muttering...disgusted mumbles. The humiliation burned deep and hot, Lord Ramsay had forced himself on Reek before but never...never in front of onlookers. The scarred creature hadn’t really counted the boys, they seemed to just be apart of his Master’s little workshop of horrors he unleashed on his pet. Theon hadn’t even thought to count his lucky stars that Ramsay hadn’t dragged him out to the yard to be taken like a dog. Earlier the former Greyjoy had spent most of the day in the kennels with the girls and the regular chores expected of him. Though much to his chagrin, Reek had been summoned to the massive hall the Dreadfort boasted, not unusually it hosted large feasts, meeting and any other manner of gathering the Bolton home was required of at the time.

This time it sat a few neighboring Lords and Ladies, supping lightly on a not-so-meager meal the heir to the fort had thrown together for ‘the occasion’. Head bowed and feet shuffling, Reek limped his way to his Lord’s side, avoiding the numerous stares that raked over his body like hot coals. He couldn’t help but notice his own foul stench in the lovely smelling room full of the finely dressed and fresh food heftily lining plates. Hunger temporarily drowned out by the unquelling fear pouring out of him in waves; The crowd occupying the vast space seemed to suck the air out of his lungs. This game felt dangerous.

That was when Ramsay grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and slammed his face into the table below, whispering horrifying things in his ears as he  
wrenched his breeches from the shivering form. That was when it started… the hell on Earth that he was trudging through at the moment. Clearly the guests didn’t think to get up and leave the gathering for fear of insulting the warden of the north’s son. 

Entertainment.

If that is what you would call it… Entertainment is what he was meant to be as Reek was taken like a common wench in front of more than a dozen viewers. The stretch burned like a branding iron, though the blush high on his cheeks seared far worse at the filthy stream flowing from his master’s lips. Every set of eyes scalded his skin, the gazes reminded him of how lowly he felt. A toy… to be used and discarded. The little thing felt disgusting, putrid… the festering beneath his skin was hard to bear for such a weak creature as he. The noises he made were sub-human, moans, and wails of a wretched dog echoed against the wooden walls. A small puddle of crimson blood pooled below him, the ragged thrusts ripped groans from the already worn throat. It didn’t matter to the bastard that the noble’s of the North witnessed him savaging his servant so viciously… all that mattered was the agony and humiliation drowning the pupils of his prey.

“M’lord - Ah! P-please A-ah!” Begging was futile at this point. He cried freely, no longer worrying about the reaction of the small crowd. Every fiber of his weak being cried out in unison to focus on the succulent food being shoved around beneath him, each platter overloaded with hearty meals. Maybe...maybe...maybe, Reek hoped being good would earn him a scrap of the feast that he was being violated above. 

“Stop your incessant whining, Reek.” The even voice was unnatural.

The group that played unwilling voyeur awkwardly sipped their wine while the gaunt man thrust back against his captor, eager to end the horrifying ordeal. It wasn’t enough to break the weak man, he had to tear him asunder and laugh at the bloody pieces he left to rot on the floor, and just as quick as he would ruin every inch of his creature, Master would put him back together in an image he’d made himself. Reek knew once this game was finished there would be some small reprieve… just enough of a reward to push the little thoughts in the back of the boys’ muddled mind. Though the creature couldn’t bring himself to look towards the future, not when the present was such a menagerie of grotesqueries unheard of by man... Reek supposed he was no man… That’s what Master had taught him over and over again.

The young bastard Lord made his presence known once more by digging his fingernails into his captives back and raking down the tender flesh with a v viciousness only akin to the unspoken message ‘You don’t get to ignore me, pet.’

Ramsay knew his dog inside and out, he could tell when the former Greyjoy started slipping into a state of dissociated safety. That was not allowed. Reek let out a wracked sob, thinking about the lashings he might have just earned for breaking the rules of that monsters contest as if it really were a fair contest at all. It was enough to let Master know he was paying attention again. 

Ice cold eyes bored holes into their prey, The Lord used his free arm to twist Reek’s much thinner limb around to pin it to the scarred skin of his back; Arching up, the new angle had bright light bursting behind his eyelids. Lewd gushings spewed from an agape maw, it horrified the creature to his bones that someone other than Ramsay could hear his moaning and begging. He started crying openly again when one of the guests stood abruptly and took their leave… clearly off-put by the show. 

To the Bastard of Bolton, the whole world narrowed to his plaything when he antagonized it, his sole focus. Fleshy hands wound their way down the pain ravaged body, none-to-gently gripping Reeks pale cheeks apart to expose the abused hole he pumped into. The pace slowed as the man watched his length push inside his captive; the clotting blood a beautiful sight to behold. Every meandering stroke punched a weak gasp from the former princeling, feebly trying to stay silent in front of the uneasy audience. 

“You take my cock so well, Reek.” Speed picking up ever so slightly, “Have you been practicing on your lonesome? Stretching yourself around those measly fingers when no one is looking?”

Filling the stifled air with rhetoric and malice did nothing to alleviate the palpable, unbearable feeling of every soul in the room passing judgment on the horrid mutt; The sight of Ramsay’s latest project was a common one to the people of the Dreadfort, but Reek was unused to any foreign party witnessing his filth.

Master was back to his punishing pace, holding his thin frame roughly against the wood below. He was babbling smut and threats mostly for his own amusement but Theon knew to take every violent promise as seriously as the plague.

“When I’m done with you, I’ll have you tied to a post… half the kingdom could take a turn. You’d beg to have me and me alone after they were through with you” He grunted through clenched teeth. 

“Y-yes M’Lord.”

“Do you enjoy their eyes on you? Hmm?” Ramsay grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked his head upright to meet the half-glances the guests shot him. Some filled with pity...Some disgust; Reek’s face wet with tears, his response was little more than a shaky sob. He could feel every flaw, burning red-hot under the scrutiny of others. Broken teeth… deep, angry scars... bruises new and old… all the missing fingers....missing toes...all his ribs sticking out against taut skin pale as the day is long. He cried harder.

Master seemed to relish the broken figure quivering beneath him, “I’d call you a whore, but a common brothel bitch has more dignity than you, dearest pet, Look at you! Bent over a table, with the finest Lords and Ladies averting their gazes from such a disgusting thing.”

In a flash, the Lord flipped his body over, meaty arms moving the lithe frame with great ease; Dishes clattered to the stone floor, some shattering and going unnoticed, goblets spilling their contents onto the polished wood. 

“What happened to Prince Theon? He would never be fucked like a squealing maid, would he?”

Reek shook his head violently, “N-no! Not Th-Theon! Reek! I am your Reek Master!” Legs trembling over the broad shoulders of a monster, ready to tear him to shreds at any moment, “Theon is dead! D-de-dead!”

From this position, it was arguably more frightening; Ramsay’s long black hair cast eery shadows over his fleshy face. His wide figure towered over the measly one Reek dealt with, heavy arms held him down, the threat of breaking him always present. His Lord truly was a magnificent sight, intimidating, monstrous, and unsettling. There was a grin carved into his features, icy pupils boring holes into his being, analyzing every movement with calculating care. The bastard pushed his wiry legs against his torso, adjusting the angle to tear his lower half asunder, the girth made it feel like he’d be torn in half at any second. The air was heavy with the sound of slapping skin and hushed groaning, it sounded like sex and despair. 

Master held him close when he finally released inside his pet, practically growling in his ear as the hot seed flooded his entrance and filled him to the brim. Without much fanfare, as if nothing had happened at all, Ramsay pulled out of him quickly and shoved him from the table. It sent the poor creature toppling to the hard ground, crying out when his bare knees made contact with the rough-cut stone.

“Get the fuck out of here, before I change my mind and start passing you around.”

Reek when scrambling out of the dining hall, scooping up his rags and leaking cum from his torn hole. 

He could feel the heat of every set of eyes watching him limp away.

Freak, He thought to himself.

Weak, Meek, Bleak, Freak Freak Freak

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I've been having a rough time lately and nothing soothes me more than hurting Reek. I hope you all enjoy that too!


End file.
